Days Like This
by Bruh Studios
Summary: [Oneshot] Some days just give you that feeling.


**Days Like This**

Richly colored wood swung inward on hinges that groaned their old age, the door granting entrance to a solitary male. At slightly above-average height he appeared lanky beneath the pressed suit, the knot to his cerulean tie loose around his neck. A lopsided grin stretched across his narrow face, dark eyes twinkling with a youthful exuberance. Laughter followed him through the door, a pack of children scurrying past, lead by a stern looking woman. Pausing his retreat from the hallway, the young man backed into the crowded corridor, calling after the leader of the group, "Hey Susan! Try to lighten up, they're just kids. Have some fun for once!"

"I'll try to remember that Mr. Ketchum," she promised teasingly over her shoulder, flashing a quick smirk, knowing his proper name irked him.

"It's Ash!" Mr. Ketchum blurted before pleading with no one in particular, "why doesn't anyone just call me Ash?"

Chuckles broke out in pockets around the hall as Ash dropped his head in mock defeat, people passing by giving him a consolatory pat on the back or a sympathetic word, all in jest. Satisfied with himself, the spuriously downtrodden Ash moved through the open doorway, lifting his head to display a wide smile. Activity disappeared behind the closing door, leaving Ash alone in a capacious office.

White walls shone brilliantly as they reflected the radiant sunlight flowing in a bank of windows that comprised an entire side of the space. A sizable oaken desk rested at the far end of the room, behind it a high-back chair, twin armchairs situated opposite it. Ignoring the furnishings, fingers clumsily undoing the buttons of his suit jacket, Ash stared out the windows with an almost wistful contentedness. Next came the tie, knot pulled loose enough to slide over his head, messing with the mop of raven hair atop Ash's head. Both tie and jacket found themselves hung from a hook affixed to the back of the door, their owner slowly strolling towards the windows. "Really wish these windows could open," he thought aloud, standing near the glass wall, his gaze aimed skyward, "this place could use some fresh air."

Azure skies, dotted with flecks of pristine white, stretched endlessly in all directions, a flock of bird pokémon dancing freely in their aerial playground. Leaves on far off trees fluttered lightly on an invisible breeze, further harkening their audience to days gone by.

Days when what was out there was home and where Ash stood now was foreign. When the distance you could travel was measured by the steps you could take, not the promotions handed out by those above you. A time in which freedom was rule and not the exception; when walls were invisible obstacles and not concrete partitions. When a bag on your back, pokémon on your belt, and friends at your side were the only things you had; when they were the only things you needed.

More and more, a sense of nostalgia tugged at Ash's heart, a light shimmer in his eyes. Closing his eyes to hold the encroaching tears at bay, allowing the final wave of memories to wash over him, he released a slow breath. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open at a spontaneous thought, his broadest smile beaming for his faint reflection in the window. Moving from the windows at a pace just short of a jog, Ash made his way to the lone desk in the room, stopping once he stood next to the high-back chair. Atop the wooden furnishing sat a cordless phone, a single beep emitting from it as Ash pressed one of the many buttons littering its surface. "Yes Mr. Ketchum?" a feminine voice answered after a single ring.

"How many times do I have to tell you Miranda? It's Ash. Please call me Ash," he stopped short of pleading.

"Yes sir," Miranda acquiesced without hesitation, the use of 'sir' drawing an almost pained sigh from her boss, "what is it I can do for you?"

"First, are there any more meetings or appointments scheduled for the remainder of the day?" inquired Ash, fingers releasing the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt before beginning on the front of the formal top.

The click of computer keys replaced the conversation as Miranda checked her boss' daily schedule, "No sir. You actually have the rest of the day to yourself," she finally answered with a hint of surprise, "Would you care for me to set one up for you to keep you out of trouble?"

Ash answered with a hearty chuckle, visualizing the smile on his secretary's face as she had prodded him jokingly, his dress shirt now rumpled in his chair. "I think I can handle a little time to myself mother," he fired back lightheartedly, aware of how the allusion to their slight age gap irritated the woman, "I'd actually like to have Pikachu sent to my office right away."

"Of course, Ash," Miranda acknowledged, finally dropping the formality that Ash felt so suffocated by.

"And can I get you to do something else for me?" the young man asked as he pulled his white undershirt over his head, continuing without a proper answer, "I need to repay a debt to someone, so can you find the nicest bike, in red. On my way out I'll give you the address I want it sent to."

"It's been well over a decade. Do you think they'll remember?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll remember," Ash assured with a snort, tossing the shirt in hand unto the already discarded clothing, "She's really good at holding a grudge."

Light giggling crossed the line, "I see. Will that be all for now?"

"Yeah, thanks Miranda."

"That's why I'm here, sir."

Killing the connection, Ash knelt, reaching for the lowest drawer of his desk. The wooden box glided out revealing a set of neatly folded clothing, seated atop the fabric a simple hat of red and white with a black L centered on the front. With the fabrics in hand, the drawer closed once again, he dropped the garments on the desktop. Redressing in the new attire, a tight-fitting, black t-shirt with blue vest draped over it covered his torso; the cap resting on his unruly hair, Ash kicked aside his dress shoes. "Hope they don't get here with Pikachu too fast," he suddenly worried aloud as he undid his belt and stepped from his slacks.

Quickly snatching up the remaining garment from the desk, he jumped into the trousers. Acquiring a more suitable set of shoes and socks hidden beneath the desk, the old socks tossed in the direction of their accompanying shoes, Ash slipped them on. '_One final thing,'_ he smiled, reaching into another drawer and withdrawing a set of worn gloves.

The fingerless gloves fit snuggly against his hands, fingers flexing to test the feel of the old material. "There," Ash nodded in satisfaction, wishing for a mirror to see how the years had affected his appearance.

The garments weren't the originals, but they represented them nicely, and they certainly fit better then the originals would at this point. Still admiring himself, Ash was nearly obvious to the opening of his door, a blur of yellow darting through the opening. "Pikachu!" the young man welcomed his longtime companion with open arms, feeling the rodent's body collide with his chest, "It's good to see you buddy."

For a moment they simply embraced before Pikachu scurried out of the hold and onto Ash's shoulder. "Takes you back doesn't it?" Ash murmured through a giant grin, shooting a sideways glance at his friend.

Vigorous nodding from Pikachu caused Ash to laugh, his cheeks beginning to ache from all the grinning. "What do you say we go outside and have ourselves a little adventure for the rest of the day. It's been a while since we've had the chance to do that since the good old days," he cajoled unnecessarily, earning a cheery 'cha' from the yellow rodent.

As they moved towards the door, towards a new adventure, they continued to laugh, because on days like this it felt so _damn_ good to be alive.


End file.
